


face unafraid, the plans that we made

by anthropologicalhands



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2019-05-17 02:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14823101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/pseuds/anthropologicalhands
Summary: AU. Sasuke brings Sakura to meet his family on their Christmas Eve.





	face unafraid, the plans that we made

**Author's Note:**

> **author’s notes:** Don’t quite know what this is, apart from Christmasy. Also, a minor tribute to preparations for large dinners. We’re with my dad’s side this year, but my mom’s family is HUGE, and there’s a certain amount of flurry that goes around. Posting this late but happy holidays to everyone!
> 
> (first posted on tumblr 12/25/2014)

Sasuke expected his mother to be home when they arrived. His father, he thought, would keep busy until the last minute, partly out of necessity (always work for a police chief) and partly because Mikoto was… _particular_  about her own preparations for their party. As Fugaku was the one he was most concerned about meeting Sakura, Sasuke’s plan was to integrate her with Mikoto and Itachi before making the introductions to Fugaku.

Of course, this, like most of Sasuke’s plans, went spectacularly awry.

Itachi wasn’t home yet and Mikoto’s cooking were running behind, and after depositing their bags in the guest rooms Sasuke was promptly dragged into the kitchen as conscripted help. At which point Fugaku seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and brought Sakura to the sitting room.

Where they were now.

Alone.

–

“Sasuke, stop hovering and help me get these vegetables done.”

With great reluctance, Sasuke tore himself away from the doorway. It wasn’t as though he could hear their conversation anyways.

“What is he doing?” he muttered, accepting the knife his mother handed him and attacking the poor carrots with possibly more force than necessary.

Mikoto gave him a measured look. “He is getting to know the young lady that has been a major part of your life for the past year and a half, whom you have  _refused_  to introduce despite  _numerous_  requests.”

“You met her before,” defended Sasuke. “She was at my graduation last year, remember?”

Mikoto arched an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “You mean when we saw her face for less than two minutes before you dragged her away to Naruto-kun’s party? That was  _not_  a proper meeting.”

Sasuke hadn’t wanted it to be. It wasn’t, as Sakura sometimes claimed, half-joking and half-hurt, that he was ashamed of her. He had no doubts that Mikoto would love her, and she had already gotten to know Itachi during his random visits into town.

It was just that he and Fugaku…were not always on the same page (though as Mikoto was fond of saying, with great exasperation, their thought processes weren’t nearly as divergent as they made it out to be). Fugaku had a preference for the company of those of a more serious mien and a very low tolerance for fools. In fact, Sasuke was fairly certain that if Naruto hadn’t been the son of Mikoto’s best friend, Fugaku would probably have banned him from the house during their teenage years.

(Though, Sasuke conceded, the amount of paperwork Naruto’s pranks had generated over the years for the police department probably had more to do with his dislike than anything else.)

Even if he did not always see eye to eye with his father, Sasuke usually shared this particular inclination. Someone like Sakura had been a surprise to him—a welcome surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.

He wasn’t sure if Fugaku would see her in the same light.

“I thought he’d be more concerned about making nice with the Hyuuga.” He sliced through the onions with a little more force than strictly necessary, narrowly avoiding a spray of juice.

Mikoto handed him a damp cloth. “They’re staying at the compound this year. And you should never underestimate your father when it comes to family.”

Sasuke blinked, dabbing at his streaming eyes. “I’m not underestimating him. I just thought that Itachi would be around, at least, to make things easier. Or that I’d at least be mediating. Do you really need me for this, Mother?”

“Your brother should be here any minute. And yes I need you, I got started later than I should have and Kushina isn’t due here for another half hour.” She checked the settings on the oven. “Besides, your father wanted to speak to Sakura alone.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Why do you think? Maybe if the two of you came up a little earlier the way I  _asked_ , we could all have had some time to get properly acquainted. After this party starts there really won’t be the chance until tomorrow.”

Sasuke chopped in surly silence. Mikoto looked at him and sighed.

“Don’t worry so much. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

The doorbell rang and she paled.

“And those would be our first guests. Keep chopping, would you, Sasuke? I need to go out and receive them.”

Mikoto had set down a tray of seasoned raw meat and turned towards the kitchen door when it swung open, revealing Sakura on the other side. To Sasuke’s profound relief, she looked her usual self, not particularly upset or unsettled.

“Oh! Sorry, Mikoto-san.”

“That’s all right,” Mikoto stepped back, holding the door open so Sakura could pass through. “Is there something you need?”

“I was just going to get some water.”

“Of course, dear. I’d get you one myself, but I need to see who’s at the door. Ask Sasuke where to get the glasses.” With that, his mother darted out of the kitchen, her hair flickering behind her.

Sakura looked to Sasuke and her gaze warmed. “Care to help me out?”

“I would, but I’m under strict orders not to stop. Check the one on the second left.” Sasuke pointed at the appropriate cabinets.

Sakura went and filled her glass, then wandered over to the island counter, leaning her hip so that she was facing Sasuke. “If I knew you helped out with the dinner, we could have left earlier.”

“No. This is bad timing. Usually Naruto’s family is here by now with the other dishes and can help out. Itachi’s driving up with our grandfather and my father makes sure the house is party-proof. I’m the last resort.”

Sakura giggled at that, reaching over to the plate of sliced vegetables at Sasuke’s elbow, waiting to be roasted or added to stew or whatever fate was his mother’s whim this year. She nabbed a wedge of tomato and popped it in her mouth, eyes dancing in amusement.

“So what did you and Father speak about?” Clearly, it could not have been too damaging, if she was comfortable enough to be stealing ingredients out of his parents’ kitchen.

“Oh, the usual subjects. Asked me what I did for a living, where I went to school. Told me about a couple of cases where they needed medical expertise. Good storyteller, your father. Very coherent. Unfortunately, he refused to tell me any embarrassing baby stories, which was a shame.”

It sounded like she liked him, which almost certainly meant that he liked her. This was good. This trip would not be awkward beyond belief.

“Just ask my mother. She’ll tell you plenty. But I’m glad he wasn’t difficult to speak with. He can be, sometimes.”

“Really? He was very relaxed with me.” She hummed and smiled suddenly at him, catlike. “Though, he did get a little protective at one point. But that comes from dating the baby of the family, I guess.”

Sasuke stared at her, not sure he heard her correctly.

“…Come again? Protective?”

“Yeah. He definitely gave me The Talk back there—”

Sasuke’s knife narrowly missed his fingers.

Sakura laughed at him. “Not  _that_  talk, Sasuke-kun. I mean the ‘if you ever do anything to hurt him’ talk. Remember, my mom gave one to you? Which reminds me, after this visit is over we need to get our parents together and have them meet each other. I actually think your father and my mother would get on really well—”

“Really?” asked Sasuke, weakly.

“He wasn’t nearly as aggressive as  _my_  mom, don’t worry.  He just said that he knew you cared about me very much and asked me to take good care of you. Very sweet, actually.” She laughed again. “It was almost the same speech Itachi gave me not long after you introduced us. I have to ask—what  _have_  you been telling your family about me?”

“Nothing extraordinary.”

Sakura just looked at him, clearly disbelieving.

“All right. That you are a brilliant doctor, your strength is legendary and your hair is pink.”

She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Well,  _duh_. Anyways, should I be expecting one from your mother? To complete the set?”

Sasuke didn’t have a chance to tell her that it wasn’t her style, because that was the moment Mikoto chose to back through the kitchen door, holding a large foil-covered pan. Kushina Uzumaki followed close behind, bearing food courtesy of the Uzumaki-Namikaze joint household.

“Hello, Sasuke-kun! Sakura-chan!” She beamed at them in greeting, setting down various plates and pans down with a loud clatter. “I didn’t know you got time off from the hospital!”

“Well, here I am, Kushina-san. Mikoto-san, do you need any help?”

Mikoto set down the pan and waved away Sakura’s offer. “We can handle this. Sasuke, thank you very much for your help. Sakura-chan, other guests are arriving, go have fun. We’ll talk at dinner.”

Sakura smiled and reached out to take Sasuke’s free hand, the other still in the process of setting the knife down.

“I think I heard Naruto’s voice near the living room.”

He could hear the blond’s distinctive voice as well, though his words were muffled.

Sasuke allowed her to pull him out of the kitchen, pausing only long enough to untie his apron and pass it to Kushina.

More guests had arrived than he expected; there was a definite crowd forming at the door. People were laughing and shucking their winter coats in the foyer, or making their way to the sitting room, or jostling for wine.

As Sakura maneuvered them through the throngs(he was impressed that she knew her way after being in the house for mere hours), they passed Fugaku, speaking with Minato and Shikato. His eyes briefly caught Sasuke’s as they passed. He smiled slightly, and raised his wine glass in acknowledgment.

Sasuke did not slow down, but he did smile back.

They could talk later.

–

It was an hour until Christmas Day, his parents’ party showed no signs of slowing down, and Sasuke finally imbibed enough wine to feel the coil of tension that had been present from the first moment he stepped off the train dissipate completely.

Sakura was safely ensconced with Karin and Naruto, the former mercilessly teasing the latter. The dinner long since finished off, his mother was now laughing with Kushina and other friends, while Itachi seemed to be mediating a debate between Hana Inuzuka and Shikamaru Nara.

His father was nowhere to be found.

For the guests, anyways.

Sasuke ducked around the ‘do not enter’ sign and made his way up the stairs to the second floor. He turned right, and opened the door to his parents’ room.

As expected, his father was there—not in the room proper, but out on the small balcony that overlooked the hills behind their house. Fugaku glanced back at Sasuke, but did not seem to object to his presence as he stepped through the sliding doors, the cold air pleasant on his skin after the heat from inside.

“Sasuke,” he acknowledged, looking over at his son. “Hiding from Madara?”

“I could ask you the same question,” returned Sasuke, relaxing. “I thought Mother wanted you to entertain him this year.”

Fugaku smirked. “He seemed to be entertaining himself well enough by tossing insults with Hashirama when I last left him. I doubt that he will miss my presence.” He raised his eyebrows at Sasuke. “Unless, of course, you are here to tell me otherwise.”

Sasuke fought back a smirk of his own. “Nothing’s caught fire yet.”

“See?”

They stood in silence for a while, watching the lights flicker on the hills below.

Then:

“You spoke with Sakura.” Sasuke internally winced as the intended statement came out more like a question instead.

That wasn’t good: showed wavering certainty.

“I did.” There was a slight smile playing upon his face, something Sasuke did not expect to see. “She’s a very interesting woman. Accomplished. Very expressive.”

“She is.”

A pause.

“Is there something else, Sasuke?”

“Did you really warn her not to break my heart?” blurted Sasuke.

Well, that could have been smoother. Or better worded.

Fugaku seemed to take it in stride. “As your father, it would be remiss if I didn’t. Don’t worry—I tried not to be harsh.”

“I know that, but why?”

For a moment, he thought that Fugaku might not answer. That it might remain one of his father’s inexplicable actions regarding Sasuke.

But it seemed that Fugaku was in a talkative mood this evening.

“You don’t do anything by halves, Sasuke. I know the way you speak about her. I heard Itachi’s comments from his visits. Why else invite her here at all? Of course,” he added, his tone turning to one of gentle rebuke. “You really should have come up yesterday, and let us have the evening to get to know her first.”

“Aa.” A pause. “I wasn’t sure what you would think of her. I…didn’t ever expect someone like her in my life.”

“If you had let her meet us beforehand, such fears could have been settled sooner,” Fugaku seemed more amused than offended. “Besides, would my approval have changed your intentions toward her?”

Sasuke shook his head.

Fugaku’s smile gentled. “More reason to not be anxious. Even if I had not liked her at first, I would have come around. She is quite a persuasive young woman. You chose well, Sasuke.”

“I asked her to marry me.”

Fugaku had just been raising his wine glass to his lips, but abruptly lowered it again.

“When did this happen?”

A warm flush crept up the back of Sasuke’s neck. That announcement was meant to wait. He had been the one who insisted.

“About a week ago,” he muttered, averting his gaze. “We’re planning to tell everyone at New Year’s.”

He waited, uneasily, for his father’s response.

Again, his father surprised him by laughing softly.

“Your mother will be truly displeased with you now.” He held out his glass towards Sasuke. “But congratulations, Sasuke. You will be happy.”

The sincerity warmed him; Sasuke raised his own glass, let them clink gently together, and sipped. Together, they continued to look over the lights flickering below, hearing the laughter of the house drift upwards, the warmth and comfort of people together who loved each other.


End file.
